Seven Weeks On

'It's hard', they said. 'You're doing a great job', they encouraged. 'It's a privilege', I said and it was. Looking after a dying person is many things and dependent on many things: relationships, time, support, who we are at the time, other commitments. This time I had everything on my side. The first time I didn't. Sometimes I reflect and wish I had done better but I don't beat myself up about it. The next time was more painful, much more loving and a soul searching journey together. This time I knew I could do it well, through the pain and because of love. I also knew the real pain would come after.

It's been seven weeks since my husband died. I had taken several months off work to be together with him and nurse him. This is a gift of time so precious and I was so lucky to be able to do it. The journey for patient and carer are so different yet so intertwined and similar as well. In the end, roles are defined as the dependent and the carer but along the way so much is learned from each other and so much we learn ourselves.

I am wiser now. I am probably stronger now, though I feel adrift and sadness is close. I can be happy a lot of the time. It's just that the sadness is behind the happiness and it gets in the way when I least expect it. I can put on a happy face. I am functional.

I'm faced with my future. I'm faced with my future not just of changed circumstances with my best friend and cherished husband gone, but with the future for the me that has changed from my growth.

It's a very reflective time. It's a time where I want to be looked after by the special people in my life and a time where I know I must step up to the next lesson for me. I have all the life gifts that Chris gave me in life and in his dying they must be what moves me forward. I know it from before and I know I can do it again, little by little. I also know it would be far too easy to slip backwards.

So I reflect. Since my mind's heart is constantly thinking about Chris and missing him then I shall do so as a reflection that is a starting point for what to do next. I look for meaning in little things that happen, in things I come across as I sort and in the kindness of others.

Today I took off my jandals as the grass was damp and they were slipping. The soft grass felt good and reminded me that I need to let life come to me and embrace it. Take off some protective layers, be open, just be. I stood on a rose clipping. Yes, I said, that's what can happen. I kept walking barefoot. I did look where I was walking. It did still feel good. Has it changed anything. Of course not but I shall just keep that thought.

Most precious in my healing are the people who lighten my load by being the kind of people I admire and love for their special way of embracing my soul. These are the people who make me a better person. They don't know how much I need them and what a tremendous difference they make to me now, when I need a child-like comforting but as a beacon ahead. Somebody told me that people are in our lives for a reason, sometimes it is a short time and sometimes it is a life long time, but always for a reason. I hope these folk are life long.

I'm going to keep this blog as some kind of a guide, maybe a crutch, maybe a commitment to making a better me. My world is so cloudy right now. I shall add my thoughts and let them settle. Later I may see a pattern for me.